


Drum Roll

by Piripulix300



Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Band, Clueless Archie Andrews, Drummer - Freeform, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Jughead Jones, Insults, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Jughead Jones-centric, Jughead is a stubborn fool, Protective Archie Andrews, The Archies, but he loves his friends, ends well, playing music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-02 07:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piripulix300/pseuds/Piripulix300
Summary: The Archies are becoming a popular band, and they are going to have their first review in the papers! Jughead gives his best to be at the top for when the evaluator will come. However, things don’t go his way when a jock from the football team asks him to give up the band.Jug-centric.





	1. Let the music flow

**Author's Note:**

> Jug is a bit OOC here but his character changed so much from the original to our modern 2017-Jughead that I allow myself this little divergence.

The drum rolled the end of the song and the audience clapped. It had been a really nice concert. The school auditorium was a broad room that the director had nicely lent them for the weekend. The Archies were starting to get known and they already had fans coming back to their gigs. Archie saluted the crowd in the name of the group and they all waved goodbye before going backstage. The red-head was so happy he couldn’t keep his smile out of his face. Betty was jumping with excitement and even Reggie and Veronica had smug smiles on their faces, that wouldn’t be there for any reason. Jughead, who was an enigma for all, kept his mask. He grabbed a handful of snacks when reaching the safety of their lodge, and started munching on them thoughtfully.

“Good work! That was an awesome gig!” Archie’s voice boomed once they settled in their chairs.

The girls were chatting with each other. Veronica was already reapplying some makeup on her while Betty sat on the table. They cheered at his statement. Reggie merely huffed.

“How can you call those concerts?” Reggie asked. “With your twangy voice coming out of the speakers, I’m surprised the public stayed at all.”

Archie shook his head with a smile. The guy may sound self-contained, but he knew Reggie had loved the concert as much as him. He put his guitar back in its case and took a drink before slumping next to his best friend.

“Hey Jug.”

Jughead lifted his head, mouth full of Kit Kat. He made no sound at all and kept on munching. Archie took that as an invitation to keep on.

“You look completely out of it. More than usual at least.” He tried a laugh, and Jughead actually smiled. “A penny for your thought?”

Jughead took a big inspiration and looked at the door seriously. This was not an unusual look on him. Though for once, Archie was not sure why. He swallowed a mouthful before talking.

“I messed up in the third song. After the coda.”

So that’s what was eating him? That was ages ago! Archie raised his eyebrows in surprise and then smiled fondly. He often forgot how professional Jughead could be. Jug was back to eating, actually looking pained by the experience.

“How dare you make me worry like that? You look like that killed the whole song! I didn’t even notice.”

“That’s because you’re a moron. Besides, you messed up too.”

Archie took the insult with a smile.

“Exactly, I messed up too! So don’t beat yourself up too much, ‘kay?”

Jughead looked at him with a smile. How glad he was to have a friend like Archie. Though that didn’t satisfy his need to fix his mistake. Archie punched him in the arm and Jug let him leave to talk to the girls, joining Reggie in his unsaid love contest. He kept thinking. But they were all excited and filled with the after concert adrenaline, so he didn’t stay alone for very long before the group joined him. They all talked animatedly for quite a long time. Eventually, the evening slowed down, and everyone picked up their instruments, and buttoned their coats to leave. Archie shared a word before they left.

“Everybody, please! Tonight was wonderful, but tomorrow needs to be perfect!” His voice was cheerful and shared his joy to everyone. “So I advise everyone to work their score. Also, please take your instruments with you.”

“But why?” Reggie asked. “We’re playing in the same place tomorrow. It’s still school. Can’t we just leave them here?”

“You idiot,” Betty smiled, not sounding bitter at all. “We have to pamper them. Do you not remember that we’re gonna be evaluated tomorrow?”

A sudden wave of enthusiasm and anxiousness spread over the group.

“Oh myeah!” Jughead said, still eating. “The emvaluator’s coming tomomrow almready?”

“Gosh, would you not talk while eating?” Veronica said, disgusted.

“If I did that, I would never be able to speak again,” Jughead replied.

There were snickers, and that made the lanky boy smile too. He knew they weren’t harmful and he liked to be the one to relieve the tension. This evaluation thing had shaken the group bad. All of them had worked a lot to be perfect for this day. They needed a good mark to finally be ranked as a real group. It was almost worse as waiting for your final grade. Jughead went back to thinking about his mistake. There was a part in this song that he hasn’t a good grip on yet. It was torturing him to know that he could make a mistake that would stop his best friend from reaching his dream –aka, Archie. Speaking of which, Archie spoke up once more.

“Don’t pressure yourselves too much, guys. It’s alright if we don’t get a good grade. We can live without it.”

He was looking at all of them, but he stared a bit longer at Jughead as if he was speaking to him especially. That made Jughead smile. Reggie looked puzzled by something. Veronica sighed and shook her head.

“Oh my, Achiekins. We cannot let that happen. I won’t bear listening to you whine another month.”

“Wait, didn’t you say that this evaluation thing was really important for you?” Reggie interrupted.

Archie looked left and right. He had been caught red-handed. He managed to swift the situation around, earning a few laughs from Betty. Jughead only twirled his drumsticks. It didn’t matter what Archie said, he already had his night planned.

“Hum, okay,” Archie interrupted his thoughts. “I suggest a full night sleep and tomorrow night, we’ll party!”

This idea was met with a chorus of "yeah!". All five of them chatted while packing their instruments. Reggie was whining because Jughead was the only one exempted from carrying his instrument back; Mr Weatherbee had agreed to keep the drums locked for the night. He had even let Jughead borrow the keys of the auditorium.

“He’s always being a smartass and they let him keep the keys? I can’t understand Mr Weatherbee” Reggie growled, closing his guitar case.

“It’s because I never end up in detention like you. I’m actually being smart about things.”

“I want to punch you so bad.”

Jughead laughed him off and slurped on a soda before walking the group to the door. Archie was surprised to find his friend stop at the door instead of coming with them.

“Jug?” He asked.

“I need to lock the concert room. Gotta wait for everybody to leave.”

Archie looked anxious. He sent an apprehensive look to the rest of the group, but they aren’t looking at them. Instead, his eyes settled back on Jughead, who was still drinking from his straw and smiling at him as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re not planning on spending the night rehearsing, right?”

“Archie…” Jughead was really pleased to have Archie’s concern, but he couldn’t allow himself to go to tomorrow’s concert unprepared. “You see right through me. Where are the old days when you had no idea what I’d do for you?”

Instead of making Archie smile, it only increased his compassionate look. His friend grabbed his hand for a second, before letting it go as soon as he noticed how awkward it was.

“Be serious, Jug. We can’t have you tired tomorrow. You’re the _best_ drummer in all Riverdale! It’s alright if you don’t know _one_ little move. Please, just lock the auditorium and go to sleep.”

“There are things that go beyond my human capabilities, my friend.”

Archie rolled his eyes. He knew he wouldn’t change Jughead’s mind. He would have to deal with it.

“You’re an idiot, Jug.”

“Right back at you.”

They both smiled and Archie left, radiating energy again as if nothing happened. Just like Jughead, he wished to not make their friends worry. After all, Jughead was just planning on rehearsing for a bit, nothing too dramatic. The tall boy leaned on the door, watching them leave, and then went back to the concert room.


	2. Missed a beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jughead is rehearsing alone in the auditorium. It is late, and the bullies are out. Someone gets hurt. Jughead is too stubborn to stop.

They weren’t many people left in the auditorium. Their concert had been over for about an hour by now. The principal was still there. They talked a bit, waiting for the spectators to leave, but it was already getting late and Jughead decided to go work on his movements in an empty classroom. He took his drumsticks, his recordings and left the place.

He settled on a very small classroom with a window on the park, so that he could know if it was getting late without having to look at the clock every 10 minutes. Although it wouldn’t help him for much longer, as it was pretty late already, and dark was claiming the last rays of dusk in the sky.

He grabbed his earphones and put on the damned song. In the middle of it, he had a real fast movement to do, and he was failing it _every time_. He closed his eyes, put it on repeat, and made the gesture with his hands as the song went again and again. Still, he couldn’t do it. It was driving him mad. He was making progress yes, but how small. After a while, he rose from his chair angrily. He needed the real instrument, fast. He ran down the corridors, unaware of one pair of eyes watching him ran by.

He found the auditorium empty. He vaguely wondered how many time had passed but sat at the drums without the need to answer this question. He could sleep in class if he was tired. Right now, he had a move to learn.

He sat, feeling a bit nostalgic. He remembered the times when Archie and he used to play in his garage, mostly for fun. He wondered when was it decided that he would play the drums. Finding no answer, he tested his skills once again. No need for the earphones this time, he was alone. He let the song play loud and grabbed his sticks. When his part came, he was prepared. Another failure. So he did it again and again and again until…

His hands placed themselves perfectly. His fingers were fast enough to catch the delayed off-beat, and his foot managed to hit the pedal at the perfect time. He stopped, letting the music go by. He couldn’t believe it.

“I... I did it!”

A smile reached his lips without him noticing. He played it again twice, to be sure, but there was no mistaking: he had it!

All kind of tension left him, and he collapsed on his stool, finally able to relax. He closed his eyes again, taking a well-earned rest, before waking up in a bolt to see if he still had it. He did the same move, again and again, nailing it every time. It was a risky move because he had to switch his hands really fast. However, he was doing it without any problem at all by now. He gazed at his hands and congratulated himself for making it. With a light heart, he packed up what he could and rose from his stool. He was getting tired now, and going home was more than a temptation. However, before he could reach his backpack, a strong voice resonated through the auditorium.

“Well… If it isn’t the freak.”

Jughead turned on his heels as fast as possible. In the entrance, there was one of the jock from the football team, Brad Hayes, eyeing him viciously. He was leaning on the door frame that led to the lodges. His arms were crossed in a lazy position. Jughead took his cheesiest voice possible and grabbed what he was aiming for before answering.

“Ow, Brad, what are you doing here so late? I thought you had to go back home before nighty-night?”

Brad frowned. He uncrossed his arms and walked up to Jughead as fast as possible. Jughead slung his bag on his shoulders before the guy could reach him.

“If I were you I’d play nice. Your friends aren’t here to help, this time.”

Jughead remembered the little… argument they had the other day. He was never the one starting them, but he often added fuel to the fire when faced with people who thought they were better than the others.

“I can’t help it if you are so easily flustered.”

“You are a pest, Jughead!” Now Brad was getting angry. “You stick to people better than you so they shall fall with you. You are nothing, and you’ll become no one.”

This time, Jughead gulped before speaking. He was aware of all that, it had been his number one nightmare ever since he’d noticed how popular Archie was starting to be.

“What do you want from me?” They were speaking seriously now. No more teasing.

“I _need_ you to step out of the competition tomorrow. We don’t want Archie missing the match next week because some dumb guy gave his band a good mark. This _fucking_ thing’s a mistake!”

While he was speaking, the big guy pushed Jughead back with his finger, and the poor Jug was so frail that he was swinging back every time the big finger touched him.

“I’d never let Archie down,” Jughead said warily. Brad looked at him straight in the eyes, but Jug endured his looks without flinching. It was useless to remind the guy that Archie was his own person, and that he did whatever he wanted because “individuality” was a foreign concept to these kinds of guys.

“Really? Are you ready to bet your own health on it?”

Brad suddenly moved. He pushed Jughead against the wall, hand on Jug’s throat and the other on his left arm. Jughead started trashing, but it was useless. It was like facing a wall.

“Brad!” Jughead said warningly.

“What? What are you gonna do? Fight back?!”

He showed Jughead once more, and Jug made the wise decision to stop struggling. It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

“Last chance. Say you won’t go to the show tomorrow!”

“Never!” Jughead spat back. Maybe not the smartest answer to give, but he wasn’t going down easily.

“Very well. I see you’re as stubborn as you are naive. Hey, you’re a drummer, right?”

Jughead tensed. He felt his jaw clench in anticipation. He had a small idea of what would be happening, and he didn’t like it at all. The way Brad was looking at his hands was very disturbing. The athlete released Jughead’s neck to take his left hand fully in his. He already had a good grip on his arm. Jughead felt really powerless at this moment. He could trash the best he could, Brad didn’t budge.

“If you’re still planning to go, I’ll make sure you _can’t_.”

“No!”

Jughead bleached, but he had no time to plead before Brad broke his wrist in a loud CRACK.

Jughead felt his wrist snap and he yelled. Brad’s maniac smile was all he had time to see before losing his mind. He felt his hand being released and he fell on his knees. He was sobbing and cradling his hand, lacking the knowledge to know what to do. Brad stayed silent until Jughead’s sobs slowed down. Then and then only, he crouched next to his victim and, being at the same level as his, he only had to whisper.

“I hope that’ll be enough.”

Jughead couldn’t make out the words Brad was saying. He was frozen, convulsing with spasms, and when he opened his eyes again, he was alone.

Silence greeted him. It was dark and cold. The only thing he could hear was his own panting breath. He took a moment before collecting himself. He immediately wrapped his wrist in clothes. He didn’t know if that helped, but he had the feeling that wrapping pain away in clothes was his only solution for now.

Then what? He had to go to the hospital. He got up, picked up his backpack that had fallen off at some point, and got out of the auditorium, closing the door behind him. But then he stopped. The concert! He couldn’t play if he was at the hospital! Jughead swore. Brad had found the perfect plan. He’d never tell Archie, and he couldn’t play. But Brad didn’t break his main hand, Jughead could still write, which meant that he had the choice to tell what happened or not, and go to school as if nothing happened.

But… Could he not play like this? There was no blood and nothing visibly damaged. He took off the clothes wrapping his hand and glanced at his left hand. It was reddening fast, and it would surely be black and blue tonight, and green by tomorrow, but with gloves… He twisted his hand to test how far he could go and cringed heavily. It was hurting like crazy. Of course it was. It had been broken less than ten minutes ago. However… maybe… he could endure if it meant fulfilling Archie’s dream.

Hesitantly, he opened the door. There laid his drum kit. Gulping, he made his mind. He had work to do tonight.


	3. Afterbeat pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band gets ready to play

The next day, Jughead slept in class. When he went to the cafeteria, he even fell asleep on the table, his head in his hand, sleeping soundly. Archie looked at his friend, hiding a smile. That idiot must have spent all night rehearsing. If Archie knew one thing his friend was good at, it was giving his best. However, instead of leaving Jughead alone to rest, he invited himself to his table. He woke him up by clattering his tray on the table. Jughead looked at him with a tired frown.

“Hey Jug. Looking worse than usual.”

Jughead didn’t even answer. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, then ate a mouthful.

“Should never have stayed up so long…” He mumbled between two bites

“Yeah, I can see that! Come on Jug, I told you that I needed you at your top form.”

Jughead seemed to tense at that. He lowered his hand and put his food back on his tray. Archie wondered if he had said something wrong.

“Are you okay? Are you going to be able to play?” The red-head asked.

His concern was palpable, and Jug briefly wondered if Archie was worried for him or for his show. He was really tempted to tell him about his hand, though. Last night, he had stayed up for an hour, only waiting for the pain to settle down. Then his whole night had been spent repeating the same movements, again and again, to be sure that he could still do it tonight. Now his hand was blue and swollen, with a constant stabbing pain. It hurt like hell, but Jughead was sure that he could play his part right. Even better, he could play the part that had given him so much trouble yesterday.

On the other hand, well, he only had one hand right now. He had managed to make a do-it-yourself brace in his pocket, with cardboard and rubber bands. When he rested his hand in it, it felt like paradise. The good part was that thanks to his weirdo reputation, no one would question him about why he had cardboard in his pocket, but he feared for his wrist. Surely one night wouldn't hurt, right? He just had to go straight to the hospital right after the concert.

In front of him, Archie was giving him a weird look, probably searching for what was wrong. His friend knew him well, but he had a great disadvantage: he was confident in Jug telling him his problem instead of dealing with them alone. He would never guess if Jug didn't tell him.

Jughead pondered for a moment. The low chatting of the students around them seemed like a quiet rush to tell the truth. With every beat, his wrist pulsed in pain. Jughead made his choice. He opened his mouth to answer...

“I...”

Before he could speak, they heard the call of Miss Veronica Lodge, princess of Riverdale High.

“Oh, Archiekins! Here you are! Why are you two children hiding here?”

Jughead carefully hid his hand in his pocket. He had changed his mind.

“Oh, wow. I never guessed you could look worse than usual,” Veronica said.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Jughead replied.

“And you’re wearing gloves? What a terrible lack of fashion.”

Jughead frowned. Veronica and the group were a threat to his plan. Archie was confident enough in Jughead telling him what was wrong, but the others would find out if he wasn't careful. 

“You're going to take them off, right?” Veronica continued. “You can't play in that gear.”

“Haven't considered that this may be my gear? In case you haven't noticed, me and suits don't match up. I'm more of a "metal-gothic" guy. Half weirdo, half don’t-you-dare-bother-me.”

To raise all suspicion, he lifted his hands to do the quote sign. The double effect was instant. Veronica stopped looking for what was wrong but his hand flared up again, reminding Jughead to warm up before tonight’s concert. He hid a wince with difficulty, passing it off as a grimace of "I'm right and you're wrong".

“Alright, Mr Grumpy Face. Keep those ugly gloves if you want.”

Archie looked at them and sighed. His eyes followed Veronica as she sat next to them.

“You're taking this way too seriously. Both of you. It's just a gig.”

Veronica looked flabbergasted. She almost rose from the table in disgust. She pointed an accusative finger at Archie and swung it up and down while talking.

“Now listen to me you pathetic fool. This is not just _any_ concert! If we don't have a good mark I'm gonna get _pissed_! And do you know what happens when I'm pissed? No, you don't want to know.”

During the whole exchange, Archie had kept a reasonable distance from the finger, and shook his head no to please her.

“What's going on?” Reggie said, coming to the table with his tray. He was followed by Betty, bouncing slightly in her steps, bringing her warm smile with her.

“This guy thinks I spent a month rehearsing for nuts!” Veronica repeated angrily.

“Really? Archie, are you not taking the concert seriously?” Reggie guessed perfectly.

The poor guy looked between his tormentors with pleading eyes, but with little luck. Jughead chuckled, thinking about how this argument had started.

“Leave him alone!” Betty offered her help, sitting next to Archie. She put her hand on his back and started rubbing him in circles. “I bet he's as stressed as us. Good morning, Juggy.”

“Hey.”

“You look terrible. Have you slept well?”

“Am I really that much of an eyesore?” Jughead, who was previously leaning on the table, decided to straighten his back. Betty looked at him with a fond smile, compelling him to finish his answer. “I'm fine, just tired. I spent half the night awake.”

“That's stupid.” Reggie intervened.

“That's too much!” Betty said at the same time. “Your part is perfect!”

Archie bounced back, jumping to face Betty. Her hand stopped rubbing him.

“Right? That's what I was telling him! He's the one that needs to rehearse the less!”

A chorus of protestation rose from the queen and her buffoon -Veronica and Reggie.

“Gosh, you're gonna make me blush,” Jughead said. “But you know who the real hero is? This cook. Damn, this dish is so good!”

Then, the conversation shifted. Now Jughead knew he couldn't pass on the concert. They needed this. It would be selfish of him to leave them hanging hours before the concert. His hand trembled inside his pocket. The pain he felt was slim now, dulled by his friend's will.

The auditorium was packed. Archie lifted the curtain just a bit, to see what was outside. The room was very noisy, and the sound infiltrated the backstage as Archie took a look at their spectators. He closed the curtain and turned to his friends, stunned by what he had witnessed.

“The crowd is so big!”

He looked like a child at Christmas. Jughead couldn't help but snort.

“Are you prepared? We're gonna rock this!” Reggie shook his bass like a pillar. “Fuck, are you as thrilled as me?”

He clapped hands with Archie as he approached. Everybody was bracing themselves carefully. Veronica lifted a strand of hair behind her ear and tested her piano. It was probably the first time she did that  _before_ a concert. Betty was rehearsing quietly one last time, and Jughead was looking at his drums with anticipation. 

He used to love playing, but with a broken hand, it was horrible. Last night, he had only played small parts of their songs, stopping every time his hand hurt too much and cringing without having to hide. Tonight, however, he couldn't stop in the middle of a song and he had to keep a straight face during the whole concert. This was going to be a challenge. He hadn't seen Brad out, which was a relief. Maybe the joker was so sure that the concert would be cancelled that he hadn't felt the need to show up.

Jughead had prepared everything he could. He had taken painkillers, warmed up his hand, and he had tons of water bottles behind him to cool down his wrist in-between songs. But he was still anxious about the concert half because of the evaluation thing and half because of his wrist, which could force him to stop at every moment. 

“Does your wrist hurt?”

Jughead raised his head sharply. Betty was right above him, looking at his left wrist. He had started rubbing at it unknowingly. He stopped immediately. Shit. He had to play it off. But Betty was too smart for that. Plus, he didn’t like lying to his friends.

“To tell you everything, yes. Just a bit. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

“Are you sure?” Betty pushed. “If you’re not feeling it, we can delay the concert.”

Jughead smiled fondly. Betty was such an angel. But he hadn’t come all this way to stop minutes away.

“You’re too kind, Elizabeth, but we can’t let this chance pass because my wrist feels like it’s gonna rain tomorrow.”

Betty laughed a bit and nudged him in the shoulder, a clear message to not call her by her full name.

“Don’t push yourself too hard, idiot.”

With that, she left to take her spot. How many times was he heard that sentence by now? He had to be more careful if he didn't want to make people worry.

Suddenly, there was a mike pickup noise, and people in the room hushed. Someone was on the scene, right behind the curtains. Archie and the others settled in. Jughead straightened his back. You never get a second chance to make a good first impression, and he had carefully chosen his clothes, for once. He was giving off a metal vibe and, with the exception of the crown hat, all his clothes were black. A shirt with rolled-up sleeves to not bother him when he played, and a long slim trouser, plus some jewellery here and there, things he found in his father’s caravan. The others were all dressed up to the nines; all of them were going along pretty well. 

The announcer had already warmed up the audience. Now he was yelling into his mike, and the spectators were responding accordingly.

“Are you ready?!” The crowd went crazy. “I give you… THE ARCHIES!!”

A round of applause and the curtain opened. The group knew what it had to do. Jughead immediately opened the song, and the other instruments soon followed. Their first song was a real success.


	4. Sympathy No.3 in E flat Major

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Archies finished their concert, and Jughead can finally breathe. But there's a surprise for them in their lodge. The group starts to suspect something.

It was a very difficult evening. The very first song had been easy, but keeping the rhythm non-stop was a full-on challenge. At the end of the third song, Jughead’s wrist felt like a burning fire. Two songs after, he was hotter than hell, and not so long after, it felt like it was about to pop out of its joint. Jug did an honorable job at keeping a straight face. It wasn’t very hard to make it look like concentration. Every time he took a sip of water, he lay the bottle on his wrist to cool it down. Most of the time, he wasn’t even thirsty. At some point, Brad entered the room to star madly at Jughead from afar. Jug felt his searing glance for the other side of the room. He wasn’t a fan of having to deal with that later.

Finally, the hardest part came. Archie’s guitar stepped down in favor of the drums, and it was Jughead’s turn to realize his solo. He concentrated, not caring about his pain, putting it aside in order to play his part perfectly. It was burning him like crazy, but it was not the time to quiver. All eyes were on him. He did the best he could, and by the sound of the crowd, it was a success. Courageously, he contained himself for the two last songs.

The song ended, and the encore was the ultimate experience before the ordeal was definitely over. Jughead was sweating by the end of the concert. He had trouble focusing on the crowd. His left hand was shaking slightly, and it was getting difficult to hold his drumsticks. He knew he could maintain his façade just a little while, not very much longer though.

“That… was… the BEST concert we ever had!” Archie yelled. He almost jumped in the air. He was really enjoying this. 

“Yeah, I admit, it wasn’t quite as bad as the other times.” Reggie was smiling fondly, which was an unusual sight in itself. 

Veronica has started combing her hair. She had actually made some efforts tonight. Betty looked at Jughead expectantly, and he answered with a smile. No need to make them worry now that everything was over. He got up from the drums and headed for their lodge. He was careful not to be too fast so that he wasn’t standing out.

“And what about my guitar solo? Everyone loved it!” Reggie grabbed his guitar like he was still playing. Betty lifted her eyes heavenward. 

“I think they loved Jughead’s more.” Archie belied him. 

“What?” Jughead was surprised to hear his name at all. His hand was really hard to ignore right now, so he wasn’t listening to the conversation anymore. He was concentrated on not showing any pain. The painkillers had worn off a while ago. 

“Didn’t you hear people cheering you?” Betty provided, smiling. “Your solo was fantastic!” 

She clutched his arm. Jughead appreciated her sympathy, but right now his only aim was the hospital. No one knew though, so he smiled back at Betty.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Archie went to Jughead and put his hand on Jughead's shoulder. They wobbled a bit but the gesture was friendly.

“Your training showed up, dude! Remind me to stay with you next time!”

Jughead laughed it off, and the conversation generalized. They finally arrived at their lodge and Jughead was ready to just grab his bag and go. But, standing there in the middle of the room, there was a man none of them knew.

“Good evening, the Archies.” He said. 

The group remained silent. It's not always good news to have a stranger calling you, and they had too much affinity with bad events to be anything else than careful. The man felt the tension and tried breaking the ice.

“Do not worry, please. I am the man that came to evaluate you. I wanted to talk to you.”

He went to Archie and raised his hand. Archie shook it, tension eased up.

“Oh, the critic! Aren’t you supposed to make your report and… not meet us?”

“Nonsense. That’s the old-fashioned way. We have to talk.”

Jughead bit his lips and put on his jacket. If they could not leave yet, at least he would enjoy the relative comfort of his pocket. However, when his wrist met the handmade cast, it didn’t feel good anymore. Jughead felt… not better at all. His hand was still pulsing, and it was far from calming down. He clutched his teeth and waited. He was beginning to feel sweaty, but not from the exercise.

“I have a few remarks on your performance. If you are ready to talk them out with me, we can arrange a better mark for your score tonight.”

“That doesn’t seem very ethical,” Jughead couldn’t help but bicker. 

“It is, I can assure you, a very common method in the field. First off, Archibald Andrews.”

The guy listed to each their strong point and their weak point. Jughead was trying to concentrate but he kept his distance from the conversation. It was hard to concentrate on anything else but his hand right now.

“All right,” the man said, turning to him. “Last but not least… Forsythe.”

“Jughead.” He corrected automatically.

“Yes, well… I will say that your performance is quite good.”

Jughead clutched his teeth instead of rolling his eyes. He had given it all tonight, and it wouldn’t have been better even if his wrist was unhurt.

“But, there is one small problem,” the man kept on. “You constantly look like you’re going to kill the spectators.”

Ah, that must have been because of his wrist. He may have forced on the grimace too much. There was a low murmur of surprise among his friends. What was this guy’s problem? Coming here and telling him how Jughead should act.

“Yeah, and?” Jughead asked. 

“You can’t give such a strong contradictory message. All your songs are about friendship, love and happiness, and then there’s you...”

Archie was about to intervene, but Veronica held him back. Jug was glad for it. Be an apple-polisher first, rage after. He was used to people calling him broody, so the unsaid term didn’t hurt him.

“I can be plenty of joy and happiness if I want.” Jughead hissed showing that he, in fact, couldn’t.

“Perfect! Then show it to me.”

At this, Jughead’s writs sent a painful signal to him. He couldn’t play anymore tonight. Or if he did, he would be even worse than during the concert. There was no point in him playing.

“I’m not doing it again. I have to get going as early as possible.”

“What, you have someplace to be?” Archie asked with surprise.

Jug shrugged, a common sign t o say that he’d tell him after. But the man wasn’t about to let this pass. He got angry and raised his voice. 

“Mr Jones, I need you to show me your biggest smile, and wear lighter colors.”

“That’s stupid,” Betty stepped up. “Why not let him wear whatever he wants?”

The man approached Jughead and pointed at him up and down. At this point, Jughead was really tempted to just tell them about his wrist, but it could be even worse. This guy looked like he could give them a bad mark if they just looked at him wrong. Plus, there was no way to guess what he’d do if he knew they had let a member play with an injury.

“Because that _attire_ is not trendy right now. I can’t give you a good mark if you don’t show a bit of willingness!”

Everyone started speaking together. Jughead sighed. Might as well get done with it. He took off his jacket, his hat –yes he did- and laid it carefully on the table. He put on his brightest smile, the last one he had on hand. He grabbed his drumsticks and sat at the nearest chair. He could feel everyone look at him. Jughead sensed his hair falling in front of his eyes because of the lack of hold, but he didn’t need to see to know what he was doing. He tippity-tapped in rhythm, not ever letting go of his smile. Keeping it when he knew it was just a facade was the hardest part. He played his part with energy. His hair went wild, floating when he moved his head to the nonexistent music. His wrist flared up so much that he had trouble holding the stick in his hand. At the end of the performance, it was shaking and screaming at him. Jughead clutched his jaws and dropped his smile. He shouldn’t have done that.

He swallowed his pain and got up, opening his eyes at last. He was sending off a murderous look at anyone who caught his eyes. His friends were looking at him with a mix a pride, surprise and concern. Jug couldn’t stay. He needed out. He wished he had more painkillers with him right now. He immediately put his hat back on and turned to look at the evaluator.

“Is that good enough for you?”

“Well, yes but…” 

Taken by surprise, he had no time to finish his sentence before Jughead grabbed his jacket and rushed out. Everyone looked at him go, but no one made a move to stop him. The man frowned but kept his mouth shut. When they finally heard the front door close, they sprung to life again. Archie wanted to go after him but he was torn between their referee and Jughead’s outburst, which had surprised all of them.

“Your drummer’s a mess.” The guy said. “You should get rid of him. Being emotional like that is never good in a group. Does he not have any groupthink? 

“We’re not getting rid of Jughead.” Archie said, in a final tone.

The man raised an eyebrow, but he was met with decided faces. Not only Archie, but all of them were standing out for their friend. He was clearly outnumbered.

“All right, all right… But are you sure? Your group has a great tone, nice and friendly… It could do you some good. Even if he knows your scores.”

“We’re _not_ giving it a second thought. We _keep_ Jughead.” This time it was Reggie. He had clearly enough of it. “There’s no need to talk about it, or think about it… Jughead stays. Did you hear him play? He’s the best drummer we could ask for.”

Thankfully, Jughead wasn’t here to hear him talk, or Reggie wouldn’t have said those things. However, he felt himself blush a little as he knew that the others had heard him. He may have to answer for his actions later. The man was about to bounce back but he seemed to suddenly realize how determined they were and he stopped before speaking too fast.

“Well, I see. All right then. Your performance was good and you proved many points. You’ll see my critic in the papers tomorrow.”

They shook hands, and he left. The group started tidying up slowly, chatting silently.

“That man was very strange. I hope all of our evaluators won’t be like that.”

“Next time I won’t be able to restrain myself,” Archie said, seething. “Did you hear what he said about Jughead?”

Betty shook her head no. She was cleaning the table from their concert-snacks. “Poor Juggie wasn’t even at his top. I saw him rub at his wrist before the concert.”

“Did you?” Archie asked, surprised. “He didn’t tell me something was wrong. You're sure you’re not imagining things?”

“No way, Archiekins,” Veronica intruded. “Have you not learned anything from me? Those gloves were horrendous looking. He was definitely hiding something.”

Silence fell on them. In the end, no one had noticed anything strange except for Betty and Veronica, and it was not enough to conclude anything about their friend. What saddened them was that they didn't know if Jughead was acting moody, or if there was something wrong.


	5. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Archies finally understand what's going on, and they aren't happy about it...

They finished tidying up and left the lodge. Outside, it was dark. It hadn’t been long since the strange man left, and they were all still full of adrenaline, looking for something to do before going to sleep. However, before they could decide on either going to Pop’s or wander down the street, another silhouette appeared. Hidden by the night, they heard him coming before he showed his face.

“Wow. What a great concert. Bravo, Archie,” the newcomer said.

All his words were heavy with irony, and Archie couldn’t recognize who it was before the guy was illuminated by the streetlamp.

“Brad Hayes? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see _Jughead_ play. Couldn’t miss it.”

“What did you do say?”

Archie was by Brad's sides in an instant. Both of them were footballers, so he couldn’t threaten him so easily –plus it wasn’t his style- but he had enough reputation to make him stop using that horrible taunting voice.

“You won’t get to talk to Jughead tonight, he already left,” Archie told him. 

“Yes, I know. I bumped into him before he fled away. Seemed like he was in a rush.”

Veronica stepped up, eyeing him dangerously. She joined Archie by his sides and pointed a finger at the jock’s chest. The finger of death. She was a sight to behold. Her black hair was long and loose, and her makeup gave her a deadly stare. All in all, she was a very dangerous woman.

“What is your point, Brad? Why did you come here for?”

“I came to talk to Archie directly because apparently, my warning wasn’t enough. You’ve got to stop this music bullshit, man! We need you on the field!”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not stopping music for nuts, no matter how many warnings you send me.”

He didn’t know what those warnings were, but Brad looked baffled by this, and Archie felt more in control for a while. Gradually, the jock’s expression went from surprised to sadistic, and the feeling of superiority was no longer.

“Wow, really? You don’t care about my warnings? Man, I am a monster but _you_ …” Brad seemed really impressed. “You are _way_ worse than me!”

They shared a look. They didn't know what Brad was talking about. Veronica kept eyeing Brad fiercely, unaffected by his supposedly lies. Betty looked mildly worried. She clutched Archie’s arm in anticipation. Brad watched their reaction, and suddenly, he seemed very surprised himself.

“Wait, he didn’t tell you? Ha! That crazy bastard!” 

He started laughing. Archie released his grip and Brad stepped back, still laughing. Finally, he understood that they were still silent and his laugh diminished. He was left with blank faces and a dead silence. A smirk found its way on his face.

“I came here yesterday to have a chat with your weirdo so that you wouldn’t play tonight.”

“Jughead?!” Betty asked, but no one answered her. Of course, Brad was talking about him. 

“Yeah, but he didn’t want to let you down. He couldn't understand that you don't belong in a choir, Archie. That’s not your place. You're our best player.”

“What did you do to Jughead?” Archie wasn’t playing anymore. Brad’s smile fell. 

“I told him not to play tonight’s concert, but he was too stubborn to know what was good for him. You really have this guy wrapped around your little finger, buddy.”

“ _What did you do to Jughead?!_ ” Archie repeated. He shook Brad a bit. 

“I made sure he couldn’t play; I broke his wrist.”

Archie stopped suddenly. Dread descended on the group. None of them had any idea about that. Jughead didn’t tell them, and except for him leaving quickly earlier, he hadn’t acted strangely at all. It was almost unbelievable. If Betty and Veronica hadn’t noticed the rubbing and the gloves, they would have just laughed at Brad’s face and told him that he was making shit up. But he wasn’t, and he was apparently very pleased with himself.

“I thought you had him play nonetheless, but you didn’t even know! Is your friend stupid or masochistic maybe? Did you have him sign a blood pact to be this stupidly loyal? Was he…”

Brad was suddenly interrupted by Archie’s fist in his face. His punch made the jock fell on the ground. Brad was holding his bloody nose. He kept his mouth shut without daring to say another word. Reggie was the first one to react.

“Wow.”

“I’m fucking tired of all these people calling Jughead names,” Archie explained, trembling from rage. 

“Juggie played with a broken wrist…” Betty moaned. “He must have gone to the hospital. That’s why he was in a rush.”

“This guy…” Reggie sighed.

Archie suddenly moved, cutting the pitiful atmosphere with his burst of energy.

“Stupid, stupid!” Archie gnashed his teeth in anger. He grabbed his guitar in one swift move and eagerly walked to his car. “Fucking shit!”

All of them followed him without a word. They entered the car, taking their respective seats, but before they could buckle up, Archie looked at them with a pained expression.

“Guys, I’m sorry, but I have to find Jughead. I’m not going to Pop’s and I don’t have time to drive you back.”

“You are as stubborn as Jughead,” Reggie said. “We’re coming with you.”

“Drive on, Archiekins! Let’s find your foolish friend and tell him to never do that again!” 

Veronica sat on the front seat. Betty looked more worried than usual, but she sat on the rear seat next to Reggie without protesting. Archie started driving as soon as the key was in the ignition. The car jumped to life and the group plus their instruments were projected in their seats. Archie took the road to the hospital. At some point, one of them asked to look out for Jug, but it was useless to remind them of their main objective. Their eyes were all stuck outside, looking for their drummer friend. When suddenly…

“THERE!”

The tires screeched as the car stopped, making Jughead jump sideways. The door to the front seat opened and Veronica got out to join the others in the back. Archie said nothing, looking at Jughead with a frown. His friend was standing in the cold, holding his hand protectively. Archie did everything he could to stop himself from crying.

“What… Archie?” Jughead asked, perplexed. Betty jumped out of the car, embraced him with a tear in her eye and forced him to get in the car. 

“Wait, no. I’m not coming with you tonight, guys.”

“We’re not going to Pop’s,” Archie said darkly. 

“Then where? I’m sorry Archie but uh-…” Jughead gritted his teeth for a second. “I can’t come with you. How did you find me anyway? This road isn’t on your way.”

“We’re going to the hospital.”

Jughead opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again, having guessed what was happening. He sank in his seat and did his best to look everywhere but inside the car. He couldn’t hide his winces anymore, but it didn’t matter. No one said anything when he writhed his face in pain from time to time, or when he rubbed at his wrist absent-mindedly.

There weren’t a lot of people at the hospital. Jughead entered and the girl at the reception desk greeted him like a good friend.

“Jughead Jones.” She said, with a sly smile. “What happened this time?”

“Broken wrist.” 

“Fell down the stairs again?”

“You know me too well, Joanna.” 

Jughead was a bit embarrassed by the presence of his friends, but she seemed to know better than to intrude in his life. She started filling a paper with Jughead’s name, asking for the minimal information possible, scribbling notes here and there on the page.

“I see you have company this time! Please take care of him. I swear this boy is made of sugar.” 

She winked at the group, oblivious to the odd tension. Jughead mumbled a retort and she laughed, handing him a paper. Jughead took it quickly.

The waiting room was a large place, and all of them fit in. They still didn’t know what to say to him so they waited in an odd silence. It was strange to have the group this awkward for this long. Usually, after a big crisis, they could split and think over it for a while before talking about it. Jughead didn’t want this to be a crisis because it meant that he had to be the center of attention, and he knew that avoiding the subject would stress him until they talked about it. He didn’t want them to find out, and especially not so soon. Now, they were stuck together, held only by their friendly obligation to be with him. He hated it. He just wanted to know if they were angry at him, or if they were prideful –most unlikely-, but he hated that tensed silence. He would give anything,  _anything_ to lift this heavy cloud of doubt. Even if it meant talking with Reggie.

Speaking of the devil, Jughead saw Reggie walk up and sit with him.

“Hey, Jug my buddy,” Reggie whispered. “Do you know this little bombshell?”

“Who?”

“Reception desk girl. Miss you-fell-down-the-stairs.”

Jughead watched Reggie carefully, but he wasn’t joking. He really was eyeing the secretary up and down.

“…Joanna?”

“Yes! Her! Care to present me?”

“Oh, gross!” Betty said. 

“I agree. You are… a pig, Reginald.” Veronica completed.

“Come on now! Where’s the hurt? I’m not talking about a date; I just want her number!”

“Isn’t that the same thing? See, that’s what’s wrong with you Reggie. You cannot behave correctly in society.”

Jughead couldn’t hide a snicker, and he understood what Reggie was trying to do. Thanks to him, the tension had lifted, and they were now all laughing at his expense. He laughed with them, occasionally throwing his own remark, and all went well until he noticed Archie’s silent scowl. He looked up at his friend, but the red-haired boy didn’t speak a word.

When he was released from the hospital, the tension had lifted enough for them to ask him about his little misadventure. They hadn’t forgotten about going to Pop’s, and it seemed that a milkshake and a burger were even more necessary now. It was late, but Pop’s was open most of the night anyway.

They ordered and chatted as if they had forgotten about their little misadventure. Archie had stopped looking at Jughead like a deer caught in headlights, but he knew what was coming for him. Their friends gradually left, and with only the two of them present, Jughead started taking this seriously. Pop brought another milkshake for each and Jughead started drinking in anticipation. He didn’t have to wait long.

“How far were you planning to go?” Archie asked suddenly. 

“I don’t know. Not much farther I guess,” Jughead tried to laugh, but Archie tuned it out. Getting serious again, Jughead asked the first question on his mind. “How did you find out about it?”

He now had his hand in a cast, but he still had his right hand to grab his milkshake.

“Brad came to brag,” Archie revealed. He looked like he was about to puke in his drink. He pushed his milkshake away. “Jug, I don’t like it when you do that. Why do you always do that?”

“Do what.”

“Endure?”

Jughead nibbled on his straw. He looked at his hand in plaster. Archie had chosen the perfect word to explain the situation. However, he had no justification for his behavior. Everything sounded wrong.

“It’s what I do, I suppose,” He finally said. 

“I can’t believe you played the whole gig like that… And when this guy asked you to do it again, you did! Are you _that_ dedicated to the group?”

“No.”

“Then, me? Brad said you didn’t want to fail me or something like that.”

“Ah, well, yes. I guess I am then.”

The milkshakes no longer looked appetizing, but he kept drinking them. It was a good distraction from the conversation.

“I don’t want you to,” Archie said. “It’s not healthy. What if your injury had been worse? Jug, you played the _drums_ with a _broken wrist_ , just how much dedicated can you be?”

Jughead heard the pride in his friend’s voice, but he also heard worry, and he couldn’t answer to that. He wasn’t sociable enough to have any skill in making things right. He was usually the one bringing problems to the group. Thankfully for him, Archie sighed and continued.

“Man, you’re the best, Jug, but you make me so worried all the time.”

Jughead could see that his friend was conflicted. He wasn’t sure what about, though. He knew he couldn’t keep on much longer himself. He finished his drink and put the glass back on the table loudly.

“Well! I can’t promise you anything. But I may be able to restrain myself next time.”

“Or, you know, talk to me about it?” Archie offered with a shy smile. His energy was coming back. “I don’t really care about this whole evaluation thing if it means you have to suffer through it.”

The tension finally lifted. Archie cared more about him, Jughead, than about his possible future. Jughead was glad he had such a good friend. Unknown to him, Archie was feeling exactly the same thing.

“Yeah, buddy.” Jughead smiled. “Next time, you’ll be the first one to know.” 


End file.
